


Passings of Niwen

by LordNesquik



Series: Ori Works [5]
Category: Ori and the Will of the Wisps
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordNesquik/pseuds/LordNesquik
Summary: Pieces of the day-to-day life of the inhabitants of Niwen after the Decay. Will of the Wisps spoilers. No schedule and no guarantees.
Series: Ori Works [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057112
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

As the sun filtered onto his feathers through the canopy above, Tokk found himself at an impasse.

The receding Decay had opened new paths. New areas teemed with wild mystery as they were finally safe to enter. Treasure could be anywhere.

In fact, the restored forest left him with too many options. Tokk feared he might get lost around any bend he dedicated himself to turning. His sense of direction was well-honed to the forest he had known for so long, but this new, restored forest wasn’t the same. He was unfamiliar with its layout.

As much as he hated to admit it, Tokk had to adapt. The new loot tucked in all the corners of this new forest hosted new dangers. Getting lost would likely have a poor outcome.

Fortunately, he knew how to adapt. Unfortunately, it meant getting some help.

The sun was shining on Lupo’s field kit. Its rays tricked through the leaves above and licked away at his beautiful works of ink and paper. The stone underneath him was warm.

He was standing over a rudimentary table made from a few stacked rocks, penning onto smooth parchment an accurate depiction of the surrounding area. Every cave, passage, clearing, and trail flowed onto the page easily. Consciously, he knew his perfect memory was unusual, but as he drew it was as natural as breathing.

A scratching emerged from rocks far outside his field of view. He looked up from his work, careful to make sure the paper wet with ink didn’t fall to the ground. Turning his head, he saw a mass of blue feathers slowly climbing towards his kit.

A curious smile spread across his face as he realized who he was seeing. He grabbed two pins from a pile beside the table and hung his map-in-progress to dry with his larger works.

“If it isn’t Tokk,” Lupo greeted, as his yellow bill rose above the rocks. Tokk waved a wing towards him to stop him from helping.

“It’s me, alright,” Tokk responded. His voice was old and fed-up, as usual.

“Well, it’s just that you’ve never come to one of my field stations before, is all.”

“Field station. Bah! It’s because I’ve never had to, is why,” Tokk scoffed.

“How can I help you?” Lupo asked, eager to not be berated.

“You sell maps, right?” Tokk asked, almost sarcastically. “I need one.”

“Of course! For what region?”

Tokk laughed and looked around. His bill swung around the kit and Lupo was momentarily frightened it might knock something over.

“Whatever area we’re in right now. Not like it makes a difference,” Tokk snidely added.

“A map for… for, uhm-”  
“Bah! So new it doesn’t even have a name.”

Lupo winced.

“A map would cost 50 spirit light.”

Tokk sighed and threw his bag from over his shoulder, letting it rest on the ground below. He crouched down and began digging through his belongings.

“I remember when you didn’t even need a map,” Tokk grumbled. “Vale’s gone to pot.”

Tokk’s complaint ignited something in Lupo. In all the seasons he had known Tokk, and all the time he spent learning from him, there’s a question he’d never asked. All at once, that long-dormant curiosity entered his mind.

It might lose him a customer, but chances are Tokk wasn’t buying any more maps anyway. Now might be his last chance to ask.

“What’s with you and the past?” Lupo asked, his voice piercing with curiosity.

Tokk looked up from his bag.

“Well,” he sighed, “what’s with you and maps?”

Tokk’s tone of voice blindsided Lupo. He could hear that the question was genuine, not another sideways insult. Lupo searched his mind for an answer. What _was_ it with him and maps?

“I have a flawless memory. If I see something once, I can draw it forever, in perfect detail,” he answered. It made sense in Lupo’s head – it had always been why he was Niwen’s chief mapmaker.

“So you can make a map. That doesn’t make you _want_ to be a cartographer. But you do want to be a cartographer, else you wouldn’t have listened to me for sixteen seasons.”

Lupo looked around his field kit. His eyes drifted over his drying works. Naturally, his eyes took in each map as its own piece of art rather than focusing on the minutiae.

“They are a kind of useful art,” Lupo carefully responded. “They depict something, forever stored in time, untouchable. Unlike a painting, however, a map can help you find your way no matter who you are.”

Tokk nodded his head to the side, weighing Lupo’s updated answer against the question.

“That’s what the past is to me. A pure image, always helpful. The present is complex and starts arguments, but the past? It’s perfect because it can never be changed.”

Lupo pursed his lips in thought.

“Surely it wasn’t all good, though. No time has ever been _perfect_.”

“It wasn’t,” Tokk relented. “But those are the parts I choose not to remember.”

Lupo frowned.

“Only choosing to take the positive seems unfairly distorting.”

“That’s what you think. Really, it’s not so bad to only remember the good things.”

“It’s a kind of ignorance.”

Tokk almost spoke, but he took a moment. His eyes drifted over the maps behind Lupo.

“I remember the simplicity and the peace that used to be so common. I know there was defeat and pain,” Tokk explained as he started to dig through his bag once more, slowly pulling out pieces of spirit light, “but it doesn’t help me to recall that.”

“Forgetting it doesn’t change the fact that it happened.”

“It does change whether or not I have to feel like it did.”

Lupo let Tokk’s comment sit, his face showing he was clearly not convinced. Tokk let out another exasperated sigh.

“Look, kid. I know it sounds dumb now, but someday, you’ll know I’m right. You’ll want to remember the good times you had,” Tokk insisted. “Those you meet, the things you say and do, everything in your life recounted in your memory. Why keep thinking about the worst of it?”

“That’s… the most encouraging thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Lupo snarked. “I thought you hated other people.”

Tokk laughed, cynicism running back into his voice.

“Don’t get used to it, kid,” he retorted. “But I think everyone is really all the good they do anyway.”

“So then how does all this positivity end with you being a grump?” Lupo inquired with genuine confusion.

Tokk chuckled.

“A grump. Bah! Because Niwen now is junk compared to what Niwen used to be.”

“That finally makes sense, given your previous exposition,” Lupo admitted.

“See? Now you’re getting it!” Tokk agreed.

“I’m seeing your position, is all. Don’t mistake that for me understanding you.”

“Eh, kids never learn. Here,” Tokk grumbled, extending a wing with exactly fifty spirit light upon it. Lupo smiled, took his hand around the pile of light, and tossed it in his bag as he began to look for a copy of the area’s map.

Tokk looked more closely at Lupo’s charts while he did. They were detailed things, but each sheet was also its own piece of art. Lupo had improved a lot since he last saw his maps.

Lupo pulled a piece of parchment from a small stack, rolled it up, tied it with twine, and spun around to hand it to Tokk.

“Thanks, kid,” Tokk spoke as he tied it onto his bag for easy access.

“That’s just the standard for Lupo, Mapmaker Extraordinaire!”

Tokk laughed sarcastically and turned to leave without another word. Lupo sighed, shook his head with a shrug, and returned to bring down the map he’d been working on before.

“Lupo.”

Just as he reached for the map, he turned back to see Tokk at the other edge of the field kit with his back towards Lupo. He could only see the tip of Tokk’s bill, suggesting his head was turned slightly in Lupo’s direction.

His voice was clearer. It still had its age, but Tokk had seemingly swallowed his pride.

“You’re a good kid. Stay safe out here.”

“I’ve made it this far,” Lupo retorted. Tokk laughed aloud and gave a squork.

“Oh, how the youth have spoiled!”

With a final scoff, Tokk walked out into the sun-bathed wilderness. Lupo watched until he took a turn around an oak and left his view.

He turned back to his field kit. All the maps he had been hanging were dry, and he looked over them with a smile.

After a moment, he unpinned his incomplete map and returned to work.


	2. Slowing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris takes a walk through Wellspring Glades and Niwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer and less eventful than the rest.

Iris’ first steps into Wellspring Glades were filled with wonder. His eyes widened as he gazed upwards at the constructions spanning every inch of the landscape. Treehouses were strung from treetops and huts molded of earth and grass clustered in packs around the town’s central field.

Life there was bustling like Iris had never seen it before. Moki scampered around the open town center, running around one another and having short, snickering conversations. A few Gorlek builders continued a discussion while overlooking an open portion near the edge of the town, gesturing at it to explain their plans. A tall, large-billed bird spoke with a short, white-haired mole in a garden above Iris flourishing with flora from all around Niwen.

The sounds of woodworking and scampering filled his ears, and from somewhere above and behind him a hearty smell drifted downwards. For a moment, he closed his eyes, taking a deep, slow breath, before opening them again to continue his walk forward. He kept a comfortable distance from the crowds in his way on the path.

Outside the doors of a few huts, Moki looked on with smiles as spirit guardians frolicked with young Moki in their yards. Looking around, Iris spotted dots of light radiating from spirit guardians across the Glades. Groups of them climbed and swung from treetop to treehouse while others snuck around corners in the center of town. Their movements were filled with an infectious childhood joy.

Iris couldn’t help but smile as he wandered forward, idly stepping into one of the Glade’s hollow-tree central structures.

“You’re the new one around, are you?”

Iris turned around with a start. A two-eyed Gorlek was looking down at him, an easy smile on his face. He was in between two other Gorlek, both of whom still had their backs turned and were deep in their conversation. Iris took a generous step back. As he sailed to Niwen with him, Gumo had spoken about the Gorlek – this Gorlek, in fact - but their size was only done justice in person.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Iris apologized. Grom nodded his head to the side.

“That’s alright, I’ve been expecting you to stop by. Word gets around fast in Niwen.”

“I can only guess why,” Iris responded with a cheerful hint of sarcasm.

“Heh, you’re a natural. Let’s get you the rundown on the Glades, alright?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Grom wasted no time in introducing Iris to the various sections and noteworthy residents of Wellspring Glades. Iris had heard of a few of the locals, but he was unaware of just how full of life Niwen was. It appeared that every occupation imaginable was someone’s profession, and their myriad talents decorated the walls or shone through the citizens of the Glades. Lupo’s helpful signage and town map, Tuley’s colorful gardening, Opher training young spirits and Moki in an open field, Motay’s flawless stockpiling – the Glades were a patchwork collage of effort.

“I heard you’re here to stay. Is that true?” Grom inquired as his short tour ended. In all, Iris could hardly guess if the sun had moved in the sky since he met Grom.

“May I?” Iris asked sheepishly.

“Of course! Nobody’s throwing you out. The Glades is a second chance for all of us, kid. You deserve one too.”

Iris sighed deeply with relief. Grom laughed in a deep and hearty tone.

“Where should I stay, then?” Iris followed up.

“Well, ever since Niwen was restored, we haven’t had so many refugees, and the Glades have been able to expand safely. The newest installments at the edge of the Glades have open homes, or there’s some open ones in the heart of the Glades from Moki moving back to their Woods.”

“I’d like to be farther from town. Someone else will need to live near the center anyway,” Iris decided, looking out of the tree as he did so. He shuddered at the sight of a crowd of Moki and spirit guardians, dreading having to wade through them if he lived in the heart of the Glades.

“Sounds alright! Let Motay know and tell him I sent you if he procrastinates. He can get excited about interesting newcomers. As for me, I’ve got some more town planning to do, but I’ll be around. Just holler if you need me,” Grom explained.

“I’ll do that, thank you,” Iris responded. Grom nodded, turning around and stepping back into the Gorlek’s conversation. The other two hardly stopped running through their plans for even a moment to welcome him back. Iris smiled as he listened to fragments of their passionate conversation, walking out towards Motay’s camp high in the distance.

As he walked, Iris spied another crowd of Moki and spirits playing in the open field surrounding the Glade’s central buildings. A few older Moki watched from the sidelines, their gaze easy but vigilant, scanning the area around the little ones at play. One of them caught sight of Iris and locked their eyes onto him. Something in their gaze told Iris the Moki were yet to feel safe from the Decay.

Turning to his other side to avoid the awkward stare, Iris spotted a group of young Moki sitting and staring with wide eyes at an older one fluently telling a story. The storyteller wore an intimidatingly large tooth as a pendant and gestured wildly as he spoke. At first, Iris thought they were simply telling a story of their own grand design, but as he turned his ear towards it, he heard a valiant description of Ori’s battle with the Hornbug. Iris smiled as he continued his climb, the intricate story slowly leaving his range of hearing.

The climb up to Motay’s kit was swift. It was a relaxing refresher – his life in Nibel hardly required the same climbing prowess he had gained in the Maze of Brambles, and while he didn’t miss the constant nicks and scrapes, he found something calming about revisiting his old habits.

He continued walking up the cobbled rock steps upwards, sometimes grabbing onto a loose root or a higher step to steady himself. Interesting works of gardening caught Iris’ eye as he passed by them. Rather than restricting the plants to neat rows and clay pots, the artist at work planted them straight in the topsoil in loose congregations, allowing them to grow freely and create a closer impression of nature. Such displays seemed otherworldly to Iris.

As Iris pushed himself atop the highest plateau in the stack, he found himself standing among a grouping of tents, tarps, and rocks that formed an enclosed field kit. Between them scurried Motay, a slender figure with a long tail, glowing yellow eyes, and skin with a noticeable sheen. His wily legs pattered across the rock as he easily darted from one place to another.

Iris stopped for a moment to watch his handiwork. Motay would pick up a piece of parchment from one place, compare it to another he carried on a tablet, scribble some notes on it, and return it to its place in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly, he’d move on to another sheet from a different set or replace the parchment on his tablet with a new one.

Iris shook his head and reminded himself why he came. As much as he disliked starting conversations, this one was preferable to sleeping in the cold. With a composing breath, he stepped in front of the kit’s opening and looked at Motay.

“Hello. I’m Iris – Grom referred me to you. I’m looking for a place to stay in the Glades.”

Motay looked up from his parchment, turned his neck, and set his gaze onto Iris. For a moment, he stood motionless, but he soon set down his equipment and practically jumped to close the gap between them. Iris’ eyes widened instinctively, and he had to steel himself to resist dodging backwards.

“Iris! The Moki chatter about you. A journey from Nibel to Niwen must have been treacherous - but you must’ve seen _so much!_ ”

Iris rubbed a shy paw behind his ear. He opened his mouth to speak, but Motay cut him off before he could get a word out.

“Oh, but Grom would turn me into a structurally superfluous new walkway for the Glades if I kept you here until moonrise. You were looking for an empty home. Where were you hoping for?” Motay asked idly as he searched through a set of town maps. The notes on them distinctly outclassed the rest of his notes in legibility, though they seemed more focused on formatting style than detail.

“Anywhere in the newest installments near the edge of the Glades.”

Motay made what sounded like a noise of affirmation as he picked up a map from the set. He laid it out on the short rock that acted like a countertop to his kit and gestured for Iris to come closer. Iris slowly walked towards the map and leaned over it to see as best he could.

“Well, air or ground?” Motay suddenly asked.

“What?” Iris responded in confusion, looking back up at Motay.

“Treehouse or hut?”

“It makes no difference to me.”

“Pick one.”

“A treehouse, I suppose.”

Motay circled a treehouse on his map and forcefully scrawled a note beside it. He then used the dry side of his pen to gesture on the map, explaining the layout of the Glades to Iris as well as pointing out landmarks he could use to find his way. Motay gave him directions to where the now-reserved home was, and Iris could see the note he had scrawled was beside it on the map, though he had no hope of understanding the almost alien handwriting. Motay obsessed over the details in his explanation but spoke quickly enough to give all his advice by sunset.

“Right, that should be everything you need to find your way. You can purchase your own town map from Lupo back towards the center of town once you’ve earned some spirit light, but because of his frankly incredible lack of generosity the only public one is hung in the center of town.”

“I’ll check it as I leave. Thanks for the directions,” Iris responded.

“Of course! Come back if you’re ever confused. Preferably earlier in the day, and while Grom is distracted,” Motay quickly offered in a tone somewhere between kidding and pleading. Iris laughed with a hint of confusion, nodding in affirmation.

“I will. Have a pleasant evening,” Iris agreed, and he left to take the walk back down towards the center of the Glades.

The trip back was easier than going up, though seeing the gardening from a higher vantage point offered even more reason to slow and admire the handiwork. The smell of growing flowers in the cool evening breeze seemed to calm his muscles as he easily breathed it in. Behind him, he could still hear Motay scurrying from place to place in his kit, yet his scampering was now joined by the sound of pleasantly rustling leaves and branches above him.

As the sun approached the horizon, it bathed the natural colors of the Wellspring Glades in an orange glaze. The many grasses and flowers which lined the edges of the path and fields soaked in the last rays of sunlight from the waning day. Various aggressive pinks, blues, and greens belonging to wildflowers were dulled by the uniform colors of the setting sun, blending more smoothly with one another. The artistically chaotic gardens of the Glades were as mesmerizing as ever at dusk, but Iris couldn’t help but feel they were missing something. A quality which he had seen earlier in the day was now missing from the scene before him.

Iris resolved to ponder over what they were missing while he picked up his pace towards the center of the Glades. As he did, a Moki silently crossed the path ahead of him to join two older ones gesturing them inside a hut. Once the Moki family was reunited, the three walked inside together, leaving Iris the last one wandering the Glades.

Iris’ subconscious made a realization before he did, and for a moment he struggled to organize his thoughts into concepts.

The crowning piece that made the gardening of the Glades so spectacular wasn’t a plant or a method. It was the life that lived inside it. Every detail of the plants inside the Glades had been designed to compliment its inhabitants. Their presence seemed to invite onlookers inside and encircled open fields where Moki and spirits would play. Chaotic organizations of colors matched the laughter and rumbling of childhood joy, and wild grasses covering the gaps accented a relaxing atmosphere.

Iris smiled as he realized this, but he kept his pace towards the town map. He had no intention of getting caught in the dark to admire the horticulture.

The full-sized town map was stretched across the trunk of a tree in the center of town. It was large enough to wrap slightly around the curvature of the tree, and Iris had to step from side to side to find the area of the map that contained his new home. Following Motay’s landmarks backwards, he traced a path between the treehouse he’d been assigned and the “you-are-here” marker on the map. The map only got denser as it neared the heart of the Glades, with countless tiny houses and paths winding outwards from the map. He traced it in his mind, making note of the landmarks, winding turns, and settlements that would guide his way.

With a silent nod, Iris turned away from the map and looked the path he’d routed. It led away from the imposingly tall hollowed trees that towered upwards in the center of the Glades and into a gap in the thick trees. Some of it was marked with laid wood or rocks, while at other times it was only distinguishable by down-trodden grass. Iris began his walk down it it and noted that he’d have to learn to recognize his route in the dark as he couldn’t rely on how the ground felt underneath him.

If the Glades were a work of gardening made to look like nature, then the natural forests surrounding them looked like the work of a gardener. The path was lined on both sides with towering trees whose canopies filtered the light of dusk into a deep red. Through gaps in the trees, Iris could often see clear streams of water in fields of wild grass and flowers, or a sparkling pond that waved gently with the breeze. Some were hidden behind short detours, through which Iris could only catch a glimpse. Flowering bushes sometimes enclosed these natural hideaways, making them resemble life-size terrariums.

As Iris walked farther from the heart of the Glades, the nature of Niwen got less organized. Interesting sights seemed to cross right onto the pathway he’d been following and occasionally get in the way. He found himself clambering over over a fallen tree or doing his best not to trip into a babbling brook bridged only by a few worn and slippery planks.

Soon, Iris spotted the last landmark before the tree his treehouse was built in. It was a boulder, three times as tall as Iris, yet somehow split in two. A few small pebbles clearly left over from the fracture sat on and around it, but the other half was nowhere to be seen, nor was any clue of its whereabouts. The open face of the rock had been evened out and its edges had been curved by countless seasons of moss and rain.

Iris squinted at it and took a few paces around it, but he found no answer as to how it got there. Instead, he resigned to tapping its surface, gently sighing, and continuing down the left fork.

A few more interesting sights caught his eye, but every step Iris took seemed heavier than the last. He simply noted them in memory and continued his fatigued pace down the path. A few steps later, he saw one of the sprawling branches of the tree Motay had described stretch into the woods above him. He followed it to a clearing filled with short grasses and moss-covered rock surrounding the tree’s ancient trunk. Its base was as wide as Iris’ arm span, but it split into several thick branches just above Iris’ head.

Various ladders, ramps, and climbable contraptions led to the top of the perplexingly low tree. Iris pushed himself up a few steps upwards onto the tip of one of its branches, counting doors as he walked back towards the trunk. Some of the homes were lit, chatter and steps echoing from inside, while others remained silent and dark.

Finally, Iris stopped in front of the treehouse Motay had described. His eyelids were beginning to weigh on him and each breath seemed like an invitation to fall asleep. Without another thought, Iris peeked inside, looking from to side to side to make sure he had the right residence.

Nobody else was inside. It was his.

With a relieved sigh, Iris wandered inside and took a full turn around. One rudimentary circular window slightly larger than Iris’ head shined onto a circular bed of loose straw tucked into a sleeping alcove. The center of the treehouse was raised upwards to provide a working surface, above which hung an empty space for a candle. Surrounding that was a walking space about large enough for Iris to pace in, and the roof was raised to at least twice his height. Beyond that, it was barren, and Iris had brought nothing to contribute to it.

With the treehouse’s walls keeping the breeze outside, the evening air was pleasantly warm. Iris closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood for a moment without thinking. He let the atmosphere he’d walked through through wash over him, peacefully recalling the sights and sounds that had stuck with him.

Once he was acclimated, he wandered over to the sleeping alcove that bent into the treehouse’s wall. The window above it leaked the last rays of the sun that curved over the horizon. Slowly, he climbed into the circle of straw in the center of it, curled around himself so that his tail nearly touched his nose, and closed his eyes with a deep sigh.

He fell asleep before he had time to feel drowsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was as relaxing to read as it was to write. This chapter was a huge stress relief and reminded me that the things I write don't have to be the best to be valuable, only better than the last thing I wrote.
> 
> This chapter being more casual, I also made a few references I otherwise wouldn't have.

**Author's Note:**

> As simple as they are in the game, I really like all of Niwen's characters. Lupo and Tokk have been pretty much absent from fanfiction, though, and since Tokk was the cartographer that taught Lupo everything he knows (according to the wiki, which I trust as far as I can throw its server bank), this interaction wasn't a huge stretch. I like their dynamic and this was fun to write.


End file.
